


Distraction From Work

by torchestogether



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Daily Bugle, Dating, Dorkiness, Fluff, Internal Conflict, M/M, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4946602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torchestogether/pseuds/torchestogether
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter found it hard to focus on work when a certain mercenary was always on his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction From Work

Some days, Peter liked his job at the Daily Bugle. Other days, he wanted to pull his hair out by the time he left for the night. As he shuffled out the front doors, Peter decided that day was firmly in the “hair pulling” category. He had been sent to take photos of a political debate that morning and none of his shots came out how he had hoped. His job as a photographer was something he took pride in; it gave him a sense of purpose that was all its own and separate from his life as Spider-Man. The downside to having a job besides the nightly crime fighting was that he often found himself exhausted in the hours not spent in his red and blue suit. Exhaustion meant his photography skills would suffer and that is exactly what had happened earlier.

 

He had poured over every shot he had taken, trying to find one that was at least not _awful_. In the end, most of them had been tossed in the garbage, casualties of his tiredness. His boss had taken one look at the photos he had submitted for his assignment and flew into a rage.

 

The night before, he had worked alongside Deadpool to apprehend a gang that had been causing a lot of trouble in the area recently. He wasn’t sure exactly why Deadpool had offered to help last night; small time street gangs weren’t exactly a challenge for the notorious mercenary and there had been no profit in it for him, so Peter had been surprised that he had wanted to tag along. For all the rumors and the reputation surrounding him, Deadpool had been surprisingly fun to have alongside him for the night. His incessant chatter and childlike antics had made the routine patrol fly by so quickly that the sun was coming up before he knew it and Peter had to go straight to work without any sleep.

 

He pushed the door open and stepped out onto the sidewalk, relieved to be done for the day at the paper. He had planned to do another patrol of the city that evening, but he would be no use to anyone as Spider-Man with as exhausted as he was now. He had tried to power through fatigue like this before and it always made him sloppy, which could be dangerous for any bystanders who might get in the way. Peter knew it was better to go back to his apartment for some much needed food and sleep.

 

His apartment was only a fifteen minute walk from the Bugle, but he felt like he was walking through molasses. It had been a while since he had worn himself this thin; it was hard to do with his accelerated healing factor, but it was certainly not impossible. Peter could already envision ordering a pizza and crashing in his nice warm bed. He was half daydreaming as he walked, a goofy smile across his sleepy face.

 

“Petey!”

 

He walked face first into someone, the momentum of the crash sending him toppling over backwards and onto the sidewalk. His glasses were knocked sideways, so the figure in front of him was blurred. The only distinguishing characteristic he could make out was red. The person was dressed in red from head to toe. _Oh no. No, it can’t be._

 

“Oh wow, Petey-boy, I’m so sorry! I guess you really _do_ need those glasses, eh? Maybe you should look into getting stronger ones. Or some magnifying ones. Or x-ray glasses! Yeah, you should totally get x-ray glasses so I can steal them and look at you all the time. That would be good, don’t you think?” Peter felt himself tugged to his feet with so much force that his feet left the ground for a few seconds.

 

Peter screwed his eyes shut tightly and froze. His mind began to race, desperate to come up with a plan for what to do. _Just keep your eyes closed. Maybe he’ll go away. If there was a hit requested on me, it would be as Spider-Man, not regular me. Besides, he would have killed me already if that was what this is about. Maybe if I stay really still, he can’t see me. Like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park….because that seems completely realistic…_

 

“I can still see you, Petey. I’m not a T-Rex. Or at least, I’m not in this week’s issue.” The words shocked him out of his stupor with how close they had been to his own thoughts. Somehow Deadpool had a way of doing that, which was probably something Peter shouldn’t admit if he wanted to keep his reputation of _not_ being insane.

 

“How do you know my name?” he blurted out, finally looking up at the masked merc. He tried to seem casual about the question, but the thought of Deadpool knowing Spider-Man’s real identity was not a scenario that made Peter feel comfortable.

 

The merc tilted his head to one side like a confused puppy, “Doesn’t everyone? You’re a big fancy photographer! Of course I know who you are!”

 

“That’s not even close to being true, but thanks,” Peter wasn’t sure what to make of that except that it was weird. “Was there something you needed?”

 

It occurred to him that a normal person would probably not be so unaffected by the sudden appearance of a known costumed mercenary, let alone hold a conversation with them without yelling for help or running away. Peter had worked with Deadpool a handful of times and they had always gotten along, but that had been as Spider-Man. Peter Parker the photographer should not be so relaxed around a masked man with katanas strapped to his back. This realization made Peter fidget awkwardly as he tried to figure out how to appear more nervous, which seemed to be helpful in itself.

 

“I need you to help me get a date with Spider-Man,” the merc announced, clapping his hands together with glee.

 

Peter’s mouth fell open. He tried to reply, but somehow his ability to speak or act like an actual person had disappeared. Deadpool had always flirted with him as Spider-Man, but Peter had always assumed that was simply a part of his personality. Never in a million years would he have actually thought the merc was being serious. He was never serious about _anything_!

 

“Uhh…” His brain forgot how to use spoken language, but it had not neglected to stop the blush that burned every inch of his skin.

 

“Let’s get started on a plan! I want to be able to take him out this Friday, so we better get started!” Deadpool grabbed Peter’s wrist again and started to tug him down the street.

 

Peter planted his feet, using a fraction of his super strength to stop the impromptu kidnapping without giving his ability away, “Actually, I think I can handle it. I’ll talk to him for you. I can’t promise anything though. He might already be dating someone, you know?”

 

Deadpool froze, his body stiffening and bordering on hostile, “He’s not dating anyone. I would have noticed that.”

 

Peter didn’t want to even think about what _that_ meant. Had the merc been following him?

 

“Okay, I’ll ask him. Just give me some time. No more surprise visits like today, got it?” Peter demanded. He figured maybe he could at least buy himself some time to figure out what to do next.

 

It wasn’t that he would have been obsessed to pursuing something with the merc. The problem was that he _was_ interested in him. Deadpool was unquestionably insane, dangerous, and unpredictable. He helped fight crime as much as he committed crimes himself. Peter had been attracted to his humor and carefree attitude since their first meeting, but he knew they would never see eye to eye morally. Peter hoped to one day join the Avengers and they would _never_ accept him if he was associated with a known mercenary. Now that he knew Deadpool was interested in him (or at least him as Spider-Man), it made his long suffering dilemma even worse.

 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Petey! Thank you sooooo much!” Deadpool pulled him into a hug that threatened to crush every bone in his body, healing factor or not, before he took off running down the middle of the busy street.

 

* * *

 

Peter tried to push Deadpool’s request out of his mind, which was admittedly probably not the smartest of choices. He knew the merc would find him again and would expect an answer, but Peter was at a loss for what to do. His brain traitorously conjured up images of what it could be like if he went on that date. Was Deadpool someone that was even capable of being in a real relationship? Peter wasn’t sure, but he ached to find out.

 

He had barely slept at all since the encounter outside the Daily Bugle. He would make up his mind to accept the invitation for the date, but the next second, the worry of joining the Avengers would have his hopes crashing right back down around him. He was running on empty.

 

Peter shook his head in an effort to wake himself up more as he pointed the camera at the podium in front of the crowd. He was supposed to be covering the announcement of the newest StarkPhone and it was not going well. His thoughts wandered back to his apartment, the thought of the comfortable bed that was taunting him from a distance.

 

“What’s it going to be, Petey?” The voice startled him, almost making him drop his camera.

 

Peter whirled around, already knowing who the person standing entirely too close would be. Deadpool was staring down at him behind the dark eyes of his mask, but the rest of his body was dressed shockingly normal in a red hoodie and jeans. He may be insane, but even Deadpool knew drawing attention to himself at a Stark Industries press release was probably not the best way to have a conversation.

 

“You did ask him, didn’t you? And you told him how handsome and wonderful I am?” Deadpool asked in a low voice, stepping even closer.

 

“I-- Um-- Yes, I talked to him. He needed some time to think it through. That’s why it took so long,” Peter was trying to buy time. His mind flip-flopping all over again at the sight of the merc in street clothes, his muscles still somehow tauntingly visible under the baggy clothing.

 

“Good, good. I wouldn’t want him to make the wrong decision. Well, _I_ would like to make some bad decisions with him, but the white box says we need to do this the right way.” He stepped closer until his chest barely touched Peter’s.

 

“Smart box,” Peter stammered, unwilling to step back to regain his space.

 

Deadpool nodded vigorously, “The yellow box is more fun though. That’s the one that first mentioned how great Spidey’s butt looked in that outfit. We’ve been head over combat boots for him for a long time now.”

 

Peter felt his face light up with a blush so violently red that it matched Deadpool’s masked face that had yet to look away, “Oh. Oh, well, I think Spider-Man would probably take that into...consideration. I could tell him that for you, if you want. No need to rush anything right? Isn’t that what your...box said?”

 

“That one’s always full of good advice. Sometimes. But it _is_ usually right. It _was_ the first one to notice that Spider-Man lived in an apartment filled with camera equipment and old copies of the Daily Bugle.”

 

Deadpool slid his hand to rest behind Peter’s back, keeping him from running. Peter’s heart hammered in his chest painfully. The merc knew about his apartment? He had seen the photography equipment? Peter couldn’t breathe. His identity had always been his highest priority since the first time he suited up as Spider-Man. He couldn’t form the words that became stuck in his throat. _Do you know who I really am?_

 

The merc pulled him tight and leaned down to hover his mouth near Peter’s ear. “I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday, Spidey-boy.”

 

 


End file.
